


The Funny Thing About Friendship

by Argenteus_Draco



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: (As in the verb), (Not Legolas-is-annoying), Annoying Legolas, Canon Compliant, Character Drabble, Do Elves suffer from teenaged angst?, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Friendship, Gen, Getting to know my own OC, Helm's Deep, No seriously I still don't know her after thirteen years, Original Character(s), Post-Battle, friendship?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 00:49:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3748891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argenteus_Draco/pseuds/Argenteus_Draco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A familiar face greets Legolas after the Battle of Helm's Deep, and not one who he had hoped to see. Character drabble exploring the nature of friendships that take several centuries to form.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Funny Thing About Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> Reader, meet Cel:

“You.” Legolas grinds his teeth over the word. “Why is it always you?”

The She-Elf before him takes off her helm and shakes out her short, dark hair. “I was told to seek you out, Princeling,” she says, grinning at him. “The battle is won, and we are mourning our dead. You should be with your kin.”

“If we are mourning,” Legolas counters, “perhaps you shouldn’t be smiling so. People will think you’ve gone mad.”

“I rode with a hundred likeminded soldiers from Rivendell to Lothlorien, where we were joined by a hundred more. If I’m mad, Princeling, so are they.” She raises an eyebrow at him and her lips quirk upwards again. “And some of them are dead now. You should show some respect.”

He glares at her. Her blue eyes twinkle with barely suppressed mirth. She shows no sign of backing down. He sighs.

“You are in my way,” he says eventually.

“Am I?” she asks, all apparent innocence. “And where are you going to go?”

“Away from you.” He shoulders the quiver he just set down and walks quickly past her.

She follows him.

“What?” he finally growls, stopping abruptly and spinning to face her again. “What, Celeb?”

Her eyes turn cold. “Don’t call me that.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to ask the right question for a change.”

He blinks at her. She, infuriatingly, only smiles again.

“Why?”

“Now you’re getting there.” She reaches out and pokes him in the shoulder. “Why what?”

“Don't touch me.”

“Come on, Princeling, I know you can work it out. Why what?”

“Fine,” he snaps, angry with himself for taking her bait. “Why did you go?”

“Because I finally realized what you realized eighty years ago,” she tells him brightly. “We can’t just hide in our forests and valleys. We’re part of this world, and I needed to see more of it.”

For a long moment, all he can do is stare at her incredulously, lips pursed tightly together to keep his jaw from hanging open, until he musters up the words, “You came from Rivendell to Lorien to Helm’s Deep to tell me, after eighty years of calling me crazy, that I was right?”

“Friendship’s funny like that,” she answers, shrugging. “And you know, now that I think of it, it was only seventy-eight. Years,” she clarifies, when Legolas only continues to stare at her. “Seventy-eight years. But who’s counting?”

“You are, apparently.” If he had been any less disciplined, he might have smiled. As it is, he barely manages to maintain his composure enough to tell her, “And you presume much, Celeb, to think to call yourself my friend.”

“Call it what you will, Princeling, but you wouldn’t still be standing here if we weren’t.” She gives him another good natured jab in his shoulder as she slips past him. “So, Legolas, will you be joining us for the funeral rites, or shall I make your excuses?”

She makes it halfway down the hall before he catches up to her. She gives him a cocky, sideways grin. “Decided to put an end to your self-imposed exile, then?”

“I decided,” Legolas says slowly, “that I didn’t want to wait seventy-eight years to realize you were right.”

She laughs, a clear, bright sound that echoes off the stone walls. “Funeral,” he reminds her.

“Mad,” she replies. “You’re far from the first to notice.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the curious, Cel (properly Celeb Draca [excuse my poor Elvish, it's probably conjugated wrong]) has been following me through the Tolkienverse since I first discovered and fell in love with The Lord of the Rings thirteen years ago. This particular character study of her relationship with a certain Princeling was inspired by an especially emotional viewing of The Two Towers, accompanied by a live orchestra playing the score, which made me feel all kinds of things for all kinds of characters that I don't normally care about, like Legolas.
> 
> If you enjoyed, drop a kudos or a comment. If for some reason you really enjoyed and are interested in seeing Cel develop further, leave me a prompt. It may be a while before I write anything about her again, and I'm very determined to keep her canon compliant (okay, movie canon, no Elves at Helm's Deep in the books, I know), but after thirteen years I think I've determined that I'm never going to get rid of her, and that's okay, I might as well get some writing exercises out of it.


End file.
